


Dear Virgil Hansen... [Sanders Sides DEH AU]

by orphan_account



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson, Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bisexual Roman, Everyone Needs A Hug, Flirty Roman, Gay Thomas, Hamilton References, Heathers: The Musical References, Human Sides (Sanders Sides), Inspired by Dear Evan Hansen, Inspired by Sanders Sides, M/M, Musical References, One-Sided Attraction, References to Be More Chill, SINCERELY ME, aro ace logan, bisexual dee, bisexual emile, dee murphy, emile murphy, gay patton, gay virgil, i know remy and emile arent sides but i ran out of characters, one-sided kleinsen, one-sided prinxiety, pansexual remy, patton murphy, remus kleinman, remy murphy, roman kleinman, thomas hansen, virgil hansen, way too angsty
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-06
Updated: 2019-10-30
Packaged: 2020-10-09 23:55:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20518550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: An anxious boyA stressed fatherA sarcastic ghostGrieving parentsA dramatic theatre kidA jazz band memberand an intelligent loner.Or: Sanders Sides, but Dear Evan Hansen.yes yes, im aware remy and emile arent actually sides, but gimme a break here i ran out of characters fastCAST OF CHARACTERS -Virgil Sanders as Evan HansenPatton Sanders as Connor MurphyRoman Sanders as Jared KleinmanRemus Sanders as Jared's BrotherLogan Sanders as Alana BeckDeceit Sanders as Zoe MurphyThomas Sanders (Character) as Heidi HansenRemy Sanders as Larry Murphyand Emile Picani as Cynthia Murphy





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Virgil panics, Patton is accidentally an asshole.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> woo boy here we go-  
get ready for a buncha angst, hilarity, musical references, and painfully oblivious characters.

* * *

It's officially the first day of school, and instead of doing something practical like packing my backpack or eating breakfast, I'm picking at the cast on my arm and staring impatiently at my blank laptop screen like an idiot. I'm waiting for the words to write themselves, and yes, I'm well aware of how stupid that sounds.

Every letter starts out the same way:

_Dear Virgil Hansen,_

(That's my name.)

_Today is going to be a good day, and here's why:_

Except I don't think it'll be a good day, in fact what I'm expecting is just the opposite- I guess that's the whole reason I'm writing these letters in the first place.

Dr. Sherman told me I'm supposed to convince myself that the day will be great as a way to calm my anxiety; if anything it makes me even more anxious that he won't like my letter. That it won't be convincing enough- for him or for me.

_Because today all you have to do is just.. be yourself. But also confident, that's really important too. You have to be confident so you don't end up having a repeat of that time you tried to talk to Dee Murphy outside his jazz band concert, and you were gonna act super casual and have a really laid back attitude, but instead you started getting worried that your hands were sweaty. And they weren't even that sweaty until you thought about it which made them sweaty. So you went to the bathroom to dry them off under the hand dryer, but they were still sweaty- they were just very warm now as well._

...Yeah.

Because only cool and casual kids have weird therapy assignments that require them to write letters to themselves. I highlighted the large block of text and deleted it, shutting my laptop just in time for my dad to open the door.

"So you just decided not to eat last night?" Straight into interrogation, as a lot of our conversations go nowadays. "I wasn't hungry." This prompts him to give me a knowing look.

Thomas Hansen. Walking bullshit detector. Also known as my father.

"You're a senior in high school Virge, you need to be able to order food by yourself." He sighed, folding his arms and leaning against the door frame. "You can do it all online now, you don't have to talk to anyone!" But you see, even if I did order online I'd still have to answer the door and stand there awkwardly while the pizza guy (or girl. or person.) fishes for change. I never know how much to tip- the stress usually causes my hands to sweat and the bill to turn soggy.

There I go again, willing my hands to get sweaty. Now my cast is gonna start to smell, and no one will want to talk to me.

"Have you been writing your letters? _"Dear Virgil Hansen, this is gonna be a good day and here's why"_." He asked, tone overflowing with optimism despite how exhausted he looked. I cast an uneasy look at my closed laptop.

"I started one."

Technically it wasn't a lie, I had in fact written a letter, I'd just deleted it shortly afterwards. My answer seemed to please him. "Those letters are important kiddo, they're gonna help you build your confidence- seize the day!" He smiled encouragingly. "Remember, Dr. Sherman wants you to put yourself out there. Work on talking to people, not running away from them."

He stuck his tongue out absently, thinking as he looked down at me still sitting on my bed. "Hey, I know, you can go around today and ask the other kids to sign your cast! How 'bout that?"

"I think that's an awful idea." But I don't say that. Instead, I swung my legs over the side of my bed and put my shoes on, tying double knots on each. "Perfect." I mumbled my response, although talking to people when you have social anxiety is not a perfect suggestion in the slightest.

I stood, picking up my backpack and carefully pulling the straps over my shoulders so I wouldn't hurt my arm too much. "I'm proud of you already." My dad smiled sweetly and put a comforting hand on my shoulder.

"Oh... good."

... --- ...

From the moment I enter the hallway, someone has already come up to me. Logan Beck. I had him in a few classes last year. He's super smart and pretty intimidating, standing at a tall 5'9", a stark contrast to myself, only 5'4".

"How was your summer?" Logan asked, adjusting his glasses and staring down at me with green eyes that seemed to hold little emotion. "M-My summer? Um, well I-" He doesn't wait for me to answer. "Mine was productive. I volunteered at two separate homeless shelters and did ninety-four hours of community service." There was pride in his voice, but his facial expression remained eerily neutral.

"Wow." "I know, wow." He's about to continue down the hall, but I stop him. "Did you want to sign my cast?" I went to grab the Sharpie from my pocket, but then noticed the look of shock on his face. "Oh my God, what happened to your arm?" Assuming he's actually going to let me talk, I begin to ramble. "Well you see, uh.. I actually fell out of a tree-" But he cuts me off again. "Really? My grandma broke her spine and a few ribs falling down the stairs in July. The doctor said it was the beginning of the end because then she died."

Before I had the chance to say anything else, Logan was walking away. "Happy first day!" Suddenly I was back where I'd been told not to be: awkwardly avoiding eye contact and not talking to anyone."

I looked back up when an all too familiar voice reached my ears. "Is it weird to be the first person in history to break their arm from jerking off too much, or do you consider that an honor?" Roman Kleinman, my only friend since we were kids, stands before me with a cocky grin gracing his features. He played with the bracelets decorating his arms and the red scarf around his neck that he was never seen without.

"That isn't how I- Do you want to know how I actually broke it?"

"Not really, no." I told him anyway.

"Well I was working as an apprentice park ranger at Ellison state park, and I saw this really big tree and I wanted to climb it.. so I did and I got up like really high and I just- I fell."

Roman stayed silent for a second, then began to laugh at me. "You fell out of a tree? What are you, like... an acorn?" "But what's funny is there was a full ten minutes after I fell where I was waiting for someone to come get me. I said_ "any second now" _but nobody came so..."

He looks embarrassed for me. "Sweet Cole Sprouse..." Roman started to walk away. "Uh, do you want to sign my cast?" I blurted, he raised an eyebrow. "Why are you asking me?" "Well I just thought, because we're friends-" He quickly shushed me. "We're _family friends_, that's like a whole different thing and you know it."

He smiled, but it wasn't friendly (_family_ friendly. Wait, no, that didn't sound tight right.). "Hey, tell your dad to tell my mom that I was nice to you, or else my parents won't pay for my car insurance." He gave me a pat on the shoulder, then started walking past me. I turned around, and Roman hadn't walked away; a second later I discovered why.

"Hey Patton! Love the fashion sense, very... school shooter chic." Patton Murphy, one of the most genuinely terrifying people I'd ever seen, was standing down the hallway from us and pointing a vicious glare in Roman's direction.

When he didn't say anything, Roman laughed awkwardly. "It was a joke." There was another beat of silence before Patton spoke. "No, it was funny. I'm laughing, can't you tell?"

Both of us stayed silent as he stepped closer. "Am I not laughing hard enough for you?"

"You're such a freak..." Roman spat before quickly walking away. I looked at Patton, trying to laugh like _"Woah isn't he weird?"_.

Apparently I'm awful at doing stuff like that, because he turned on me. "What the fuck are you laughing at? Stop fucking laughing at me!" His voice rose in volume as he cursed at me, blue eyes piercing into my soul.

"I-I'm not." It was true, I had stopped laughing. "You think I'm a freak?" He was getting closer, not listening to my frantic protests. "I'm not the freak, you're the fucking freak!"

His hands were on my chest, and then he shoved me. Hard.

Intense pain went through my arm as I hit the tile floor, and I resisted the urge to grip it tightly, as that could hurt it more. Students walked by, sparing glances and whispering to their friends- undoubtedly about myself or Patton. Or both.

Silently, I stood up, wincing at the pain that shot through my arm at the sudden movement. Amongst my chattering peers, I heard a closer, more distinct voice; more specifically Dee Murphy's voice. Addressing me.

"Hey, are you okay? I saw my brother push you, he's a psychopath..." His concerned eyes looked me over, resting on my arm for a moment before returning to my face. They were really pretty eyes too, one blue, the other green. "Virgil right?" Dee asked, snapping me out of my momentary trance.

"Virgil." I parroted, then mentally slapped myself when he cocked a brow in confusion. "Sorry." I said quickly, this seemed to confuse him further. "Why are you sorry?" Those enchanting eyes are staring into mine, and it took everything in my power to not melt right then. "Because you said my name and I repeated it and like- that is so annoying when people do that."

He blinks, giving me a strange look. Damnit Virgil, you're being weird again. Stop that. He startles me by holding out his hand. "I'm Dee." I reach out, then immediately retract my hand. _Jesus Christ, why are my hands so sweaty!?_ "Yeah um, I know." Dee's hand falls back to his side as he gives me another odd look. "You know?"

Shit. I made it creepy. Now he's probably uncomfortable. Way to go me. "I meant like I've seen you in jazz band- I love jazz, not all jazz but definitely like.. jazz band jazz? That's so weird, sorry-" I fall silent again. I definitely said jazz way too many times in that sentence.

"You apologize a lot."

"Sorry.."

He actually smirks a little before it disappears. "So, I'm gonna go. Lunch and all." Dee gestured to the cafeteria, I nodded rapidly. "Bye Dee-" But he's already walked away.

"Stupid, stupid stupid!" I whisper-yelled, letting out an exasperated sigh. "Why can't you just be normal?"

_Because you have anxiety, dipshit_, the voice in my head unhelpfully chimes in. I frown, looking down at my cast. I should've asked him to sign it- wait, no. That would have only ended in disaster. I could barely even carry a conversation, there was no way in hell I'd have been able to handle asking for his signature on my cast. Stupid cast. Stupid me.

Before I can fall down a hole of self-hatred, I decide I should actually eat my lunch. I hadn't eaten since breakfast the day before. _Maybe the day will get better?_

* * *

... --- ...

The day most definitely did not get better. At all.

Most of my teachers pronounced my name wrong, and I had to keep repeating myself when I corrected them because I was talking too quietly. I mean seriously: Virgil. Virge for short. It's honestly not that difficult.

And now here I was, standing in the empty computer lab and staring at my blank laptop screen for the second time that day. I have to write a letter, the last time I walked in empty-handed, Dr. Sherman gave me that look of disappointment I'm so sick of seeing. On him, on classmates, teachers, Roman, my dad, my other da-

No, I don't want to think about him. Not anymore.

I typed a few words, then quickly deleted them. Amazing day, fantastic day, wonderful day, all bullshit. I don't want to lie. After a moment, I start typing again.

_Dear Virgil Hansen,_

_It turns out this wasn't an amazing day after all. This isn't going to be an amazing week or an amazing year. Because why would it be?_

_Oh, I know, because there's Dee. And all my hope is pinned on Dee. Who I don't even know and who doesn't know me. But maybe if I did. Maybe if I could just talk to him, really talk to him, then maybe- Maybe nothing would be different at all._

_I wish that everything was different. I wish that I was part of something. I wish that anything I said mattered, to anyone. I mean, let's face it: would anybody even notice if I disappeared tomorrow?_

_Sincerely, your best and most dearest friend, Me._

I don't even hesitate to hit print, letting out a breath I didn't know I'd been holding. I turned to go to the printer, and suddenly my blood runs cold.

Patton Murphy is there- except he isn't angry, or at least he doesn't look angry. In fact, he looks almost sympathetic.

"So.." He finally speaks, sounding awkward. Like he doesn't know how to talk to people. I can't help but notice that we seem to have this in common.

"Uh, what happened to your arm?" He asked, fiddling with the sleeves of his grey cardigan. I find myself lost for words, then finally manage to speak up. "I.. um, I actually- I fell out of a tree?" It comes out as more of a question.

"Fell out of a tree?" He repeats, blue eyes seemingly searching my brown ones. I gulped and nodded. "That is just the saddest fucking thing I've ever heard, oh my God." He starts laughing, but not at me like Roman would. It's gentler; comforting, even. I catch sight of the freckles that went across his nose, similar to his brother- except Dee had freckles all over his face.

I let out a small laugh too. "Yeah.." And enter uncomfortable silence yet again. "No one's signed your cast." Patton pointed to the still blank cast on my arm. A little ashamed of it, I nodded mutely. "Well, I'll sign it."

I felt my face flush with embarrassment. "Oh, you don't have to.." But he seems adamant on it. "Do you have a Sharpie?" I almost didn't want him to sign it, but my arm betrayed me by reaching into my pocket and handing him the Sharpie in question. Stupid non-broken arm.

Patton takes it from me, stepping closer and pulling my arm so he could write. "Ow-" I curse myself for the pained noise once I see the look he gives me. "Oh." There seems to be an unspoken _"Sorry"_ in his eyes, then his head drops down again and he presses the marker lightly to my cast so as not to hurt me. I stare as he takes his time writing all six letters of his name, very big, and taking up the entire space the world would see.

**PATTON**

"Oh, great.." I say awkwardly, still looking at it in disbelief. He caps the pen and returns it to me. "Now we can both pretend that we have friends." I blinked. Could he already tell that I didn't have friends? I mean, family friends are still friends, but do I seriously look that lonely?

I simply nodded, shutting my laptop and just wanting to get out of there. He interrupts me, because apparently the universe has something against me. "Is this yours?" He holds out a paper. _Shit._ "I saw it on the printer, _"Dear Virgil Hansen"_ that's your name right?" The paper is my letter. _Double shit._

"Y-Yeah-" I reach out to take it, but he moves his arm back and starts reading it. _Oh God._ "It's just a dumb assignment and it's not even important so-" "Because there's Dee?" Patton looks up at me, that gentle look that had been in his eyes was gone, replaced with an unreadable expression.

"Is this about my brother?"

_Oh God. I'm dead. This is the day I die. _"N-No not at all! It's a different Dee-" _Stupid. Stupid excuse. _"You wrote this because you knew that I would find it." This made absolutely no sense to me. "..What?" "Yeah, you saw that I was the only other person in the computer lab, so you wrote this and printed it out so I would find it." 

I started picking my nails nervously. "Why would I do that?" The fury in his eyes was undeniable now. "So I could read some creepy shit you wrote about my brother and freak out right!?" Patton's voice rose in volume; he sounded completely and utterly pissed. He doesn't even give me a chance to defend myself. "So you can tell everyone that _I'm crazy! _Right?" He's yelling in my face now, but I swore for a second I saw tears in his eyes before he backed up.

"I-I'm sorry I didn't- I wouldn't-" Even I couldn't decipher what I was trying to say through my rampant stuttering. He glares at me with those cold blue eyes. "Fuck you." He's quieter now. I expect him to hit me, maybe push me again, but instead he storms right out.

A wave of relief washed over me, and my hands were on my knees as I tried to calm my breathing patterns. _In 4, hold 7, out 8._ My heart began to speed up, and I didn't know why- then it hit me.

He still had my letter.

* * *

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> : )  
constructive criticism is appreciated  
comments will be loved  
hate will be ignored  
<3


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Virgil does a stupid, Roman is very (un)helpful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sECOND CHAPTER HELL YEAH  
remus makes an entrance, except not for too long because hes not supposed to be very present in this story  
y e t

It's been three days since Patton took my letter. The most stressful three days of my life. He hasn't been at school since that day, which wouldn't have been irregular, but I haven't seen Dee either.

_Oh God. Did he show him my letter? He probably thinks I'm a complete creep who has a weird gay crush on him. Damn it Virgil, stop panicking for once in your life-_

"Seriously, are you still being a stinkin' _Panic! At The Everywhere_?" Roman gave me a look. "Calm down, Virgil. If he was gonna ruin your life he probably would've done so by now."

"You're really bad at comforting people, Roman." I frowned, he shrugged. "Depends on who you ask." I narrowed my eyes. "Doesn't matter who I ask, you just suck at comforting." "..Touché."

Roman leaned back in his seat. "Why would your new boyfriend ruin your life anyway?" I choked on air, causing the boy beside me to grin. "Ro- Wh- He isn't my boyfriend!" I protested, Roman flipped his hair in all its wavy brown-with-blond-highlights glory and shot me a sly smirk. "Right, and I'm not the handsomest prince of them all."

"You're right. You're not."

He gasped, I couldn't tell if he was shocked or offended. Probably both. "Rude, _Hot Topic_." He scoffed, eyeing my clothing with distaste. "Aw, you think I'm hot." I watched in amusement as Roman turned the color of his scarf. "Tha- That's not what I-"

_"Virgil Hansen, please report to the principal's office. I repeat: Virgil Hansen, please report to the principal's office."_ A woman's monotone voice blared over the loudspeaker, causing me to freeze up. _What did I do? Is this about- Oh no. What if it's about Patton? What if I can't go to college now because he claimed I harassed him? Or what if-_

"Yo, Virge. Move your ass." Roman elbowed me in the side, drawing me out of my inner turmoil. Quickly, I grabbed my backpack and shuffled towards the door. "So brother, now that your little boyfriend is gone-" "He is NOT my BOYFRIEND, REMUS!" I heard Roman's flustered shouting just as I stepped into the hallway. I could still hear the twins arguing by the time I was halfway down the stairs.

_Jesus. It never ends with those two._

... --- ...

For a split second, I was thoroughly convinced I'd entered the wrong office. I tried to back out, uttering a soft "Sorry" until one of the men spoke up. "Are you Virgil?" He asked, standing as he pushed up his tortoiseshell glasses. He was rather small, and that's coming from me. A 5'4" tall senior.

"Um.. yes?" My anxiety was skyrocketing with every passing second I remained in the room. Who were these people? Why did they know my name? "I was t-told to come here- Where's Mr. Sanders?" I gulped, eyes flitting frantically around the room in desperate search of an answer.

"Mr. Sanders stepped out." The other man stood as well, placing his half empty cup of what looked like green tea on the desk. He had a pair of sunglasses tucked into the square pocket on the front of his jacket. It was a little odd, since it wasn't sunny out, but I didn't dare question him. "We wanted to speak with you alone."

_...What._

Both of sat back down, and I sat in the chair across from them. I was fidgeting, terrified. "Allow me to introduce myself- I'm Remy and this is my husband, Emile." Emile smiled at me, then rolled down the sleeves of his tan cardigan and played with the light pink tie around his neck.

"Like.. like from Ratatouille?" But I didn't say that. I was too scared. Then came the words that would haunt me forever.

"We're Patton's parents."

_Oh God. Oh shit. Oh fuck. I'm dead. I'm so fucking dead._

Emile sniffled, handing me a folded up paper. I tilted my head as I received it. "Patton wanted you to have this." Remy explained, serving only to confuse me further. I gently unfolded it, and began reading the words of my letter. _What the fu-_

"Go on, read it! It's addressed to you after all." Emile gave me a weak smile. _I don't have to read it, I have every word memorized. Hell, I wrote it._ "He.. left it for you." I looked back up, the Murphys were holding hands now. Emile looked on the verge of tears.

"I-I'm sorry, what do you mean he..." Remy's eyes darted down to the floor, and his husband reached for the tissue box on the desk. There were a few beats of silence before Remy spoke up again.

"Patton.. Patton took his own life."

I stared at them in disbelief, eyes wide as saucers. Emile began to cry, using the tissues to wipe away his tears that were replaced with fresh ones each time he did so.

"He wanted you to have that." Remy gestured to the letter in my hands. "He must've trusted you a lot if he was willing to share so much." He began to recite a part of what he perceived to be Patton's letter, seemingly from memory.

"I wish that everything was different, I wish that I was part of something-" "Remy, please stop it..." But he didn't. "I wish that anything I said mattered-" "Remy!" Emile was in tears. "...To anyone.."

I was shaking like a leaf. "I um.. I'm sorry but, P-Patton didn't write this." Emile looked at me, a heartbroken look in his eyes. "..What do you mean?" "He didn't write it-" He started crying harder, stumbling over his words. Remy struggled to calm him, but soon he was on his feet and practically sobbing. "No, Remy! Don't tell me to calm down, this is all we have left of him!" He hiccupped and cried into his hands.

I apologized frantically, then held out the letter. "Please.. take it. You should have it." Emile accepted it, holding it close to his chest as he took deep breaths. He stopped crying abruptly and stared at me with teary eyes and a reddened face.

I gave him a perplexed look, then bit the inside of my lip. "Remy.. Rem honey look, his cast." The couple was looking at me now. I cast a glance down at my casted arm, Patton's name spelled out big and obvious across the whole thing.

Emile gave me a warm smile. "His best and most dearest friend."

_Shit._

... --- ...

I texted Roman everything once I got home. I think his reaction was the only reasonable one.

**Princey:** Holy. Shit.

**Virge:** I know.

**Princey:** Holy. Fucking. Shit.

**Virge:** They invited me over for dinner too and I don't know what to do.

**Princey:** Holy. Motherfucking. Shit.

**Virge:** Are you done?

**Princey:** Wait.

Holy. Fucking. Bohemian Rhapsody.

**Virge:** Wtf.

**Princey:** I'm done now.

**Virge:** Great. Now what the hell do I do!? I can't just not show up.

**Princey:** You damn well can.

**Virge:** I'm not you, Ro.

**Princey:** Fair point.

**Virge:** Help. Me.

**Princey:** Apologize first.

**Virge:** For what??

**Princey:** Don't act all innocent, Jack Smellington.

**Virge:** I fucking hate you.

Fine.

I'm sorry for sassing you earlier.

**Princey:** Hmm..

**Virge:** Are you really gonna make me say it?

**Princey:** H m m..

**Virge:** Ugh.

You're the handsomest prince of them all.

There, happy?

**Princey:** Ecstatic!

**Virge:** Good, now pls help.

**Princey:** Okay, so you're going to the dinner thing like a complete and utter dumbass, right?

**Virge:** Hurtful, but yeah.

**Princey:** So if they ask anything, nod and confirm.

Whatever they say about Patton, nod and go "yeah, that's true".

Don't freak out, and don't contradict. It's foolproof!

Literally nothing I tell my parents is true, and they have no idea.

_..How reassuring._

**Virge:** Okay.. got it. Thanks.

**Princey:** No prob, depresso espresso.

**Virge:** I don't even like coffee.

**Princey:** Shit, gtg. Remus is stuck in the toilet again. Byeee!

**Virge:** Ok, bye Ro.

Wait

Again??

_**Princey** is offline._

I shut my laptop and sighed, rubbing my eyes. Dad wasn't home yet as far as I knew, so I had plenty of time to sleep peacefully before I eventually heard him up talking to himself in the living room.

I'll never understand why he does that. He should seriously go to bed.

Kicking off my shoes, I turned to my bedside table and took the Ativan I'd left there last night. I placed it in my mouth and swallowed it with water before grimacing. "Gross.. the water's warm."

I swear I jumped about a foot in the air when I heard a knock on the door, following by it creaking open. "Virgil? Can we talk?" "Y-Yeah!" I squeaked out, wincing as I hit my arm against the lamp. "Oh, good! I just wanted to say goodnight, and ask how your first day was."

"It was good." I lied a little too easily, he didn't press any further. "Well, I'm glad." _Oh thank God, no one told him about the principal's office thing._ "Are you okay?" My dad asked gently, sitting down beside me on the small bed. I guess I looked confused, because he elaborated a few seconds later. "I heard about the boy at your school, Patton Murphy?" _Oh no._ "I was just worried about you.

"When aren't you?" I was about to retort, but I held my tongue. "Did you know him?" "No." I answered quickly, he sighed. "Okay, hon." His eyes widened as he stood and backed away. "It says Patton. On your cast."

_Fuck._

"Y-You said you didn't know him-" "I didn't! It's um, it's a different Patton!" _Dumbass. Complete fucking idiot._

He seemed relieved. "Okay.." We fell back into silence. "G'night Virge, sweet dreams. Love you." Thomas smiled, kissing my forehead and leaving my room, closing the door quietly behind him.

He treats me like a little kid sometimes. It gets annoying.

"That went well." An eerily familiar voice speaks from behind me. I slowly turned around.

Patton fucking Murphy is there, leaning against my wall. "Hey Virgil! Thought I'd drop by, y'know seeing as we're such good friends and all." His tone is dripping with sarcasm, the fakest possible smile on his face.

I blinked. Once, twice, six times, he didn't go away.

"Are you just gonna blink at me like a fucking toddler, or can you explain to me what the fuck you think you're doing?" Apparently I wasn't seeing things, because when I open my eyes again Patton is still there, arms crossed and a scowl directed at me.

"What the hell-" My initial reaction was to scream, because a dead kid is in my room looking very much alive, but I can't. The sound is trapped in my throat. "Are you seriously listening to Kleinman? Of all people?" He sneered. "You're going to lie to grieving parents. That's messed up. Even I wouldn't do that."

I raised an eyebrow. "Roman is my friend." _Only__ friend._ "You sure that's all he is to you?" The boy snorted. "..Yes? Wait." The reality of the situation hit me. "Why are you here!? You're dead!"

"Y'know, I didn't even know I'd succeeded until I saw my own body. Freaky. I got what I wanted I guess." I continued to gawk. "Are you like... a ghost?" Patton shrugged. "Sorta. Maybe. Who the fuck cares?" "That doesn't answer my question."

He narrowed his gaze. "I don't have to answer shit." I realized I probably shouldn't piss him off. He could like.. possess me or something. Can ghosts even do that?

"Hansen. You're starting at me and it's getting annoying." Does he expect me to pretend that the fucking ghost of a kid who killed himself that suddenly appeared in my room is just a totally normal occurence? Apparently so, because he seems perfectly content with his ghost-like state.

"Have fun tomorrow at dinner." He sneered, both of us looked at my laptop, which was pinging. I opened it.

_3 new messages from **Princey**._

**Princey:** I'm back bitch.

Btw, you said you wrote the letter to yourself?

Is that like... a sex thing?

"Oh my God Roman-" I felt my face go red. Patton rolled his eyes. "You gotta admit though, it kinda does sound like a sex thing." "Shut up!" I squawked, hands flying to my keyboard in a flustered frenzy.

**Virge:** It's not a sex thing.

**Princey:** Sure. I'm beginning to think you didn't break your arm jacking off to those weird flowers you're obsessed with, but instead to yourself.

**Virge****:** Shut your fuck.

**Princey:** No wonder you have such a shitty grade in English.

**Virge:** We can't all be honor students like you.

"Kleinman's a fucking honor student!?" Patton exclaimed, taking off his glasses and cleaning the lenses before putting them back on. "I refuse to believe that, what the fucking shit."

"Just because he's an asshole doesn't mean he isn't smart." But he wasn't listening to me. Sighing, I turned to face the screen again.

**Princey:** Guess you're doomed to be a dumbass forever.

**Virge:** Fuck you too.

I'm gonna go to bed and mentally prepare myself for tomorrow.

**Princey:** Alright, but if you're gonna pleasure yourself before bed at least wack it to me, yeah? ;)

**Virge:** Oh my god. Bye.

"You're redder than Kleinman's scarf, and you're absolutely sure he's just your friend?" "YES!" I slammed the laptop shut, huffing as I climbed under the covers.

"You're gay right? Or at least bi or pan, since you have that creepy crush on my brother." Patton's voice softened now. "I'm gay." I replied, then heard him moving around the bed. He sat on the bedside table and faced me. I must've looked afraid, because the tone he spoke with next was.. comforting. "There's nothing wrong with it, Hansen. I'm gay too." He spoke nonchalantly.

"Dee's bi, s'far as I know anyway. Haven't talked to him without arguing in a while."

I sat up. "Why are you talking to me? You didn't want anything to do with me just a few days ago." Patton's voice dropped low, almost solemn. "Who else can hear me? And if they could, who else would listen to the loner freak? The school stoner?" He sighed, not that he really needed to breathe anymore. "You're the only person I know of who might understand."

"And why might that be?" He turned his head, now looking me in the eye. The moonlight coming from my window reflected off his pale blue irises, seeing to not even care about the physics it was breaking by ignoring his glasses completely.

"You're just as lonely as I am."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hate will be ignored, comments and kudos will definitely /not/ be squealed over  
<3


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roman causes a shit ton of chaos, Patton laughs his ass off, and Virgil is possibly even more embarrassed than usual.
> 
> Sit back and watch the insanity unfold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> holy shit im so sorry for the long wait!  
i hope its good. yes im aware its a bit long, but roman exists. thats my excuse.
> 
> enjoy!
> 
> (p.s. patton and roman are literally the most vulgar characters in this story oh my god-)

_"You're just as lonely as I am."_  


  


"Yo, Hansen. Wake the fuck up." I grimaced, keeping my eyes shut and believing I was still in dreamland. Surely Patton Murphy wasn't actually haunting me. That stuff only happened in fictional stories.

  


"Swear to fuck, if you don't get up in the next three seconds, we're both going to find out if ghosts really can possess people." A few seconds passed, I didn't move. "Alright fuck ass, possession here I come."

  


_Wait._  


  


"I'M AWAKE!" I shouted, bolting upright to be met with a very annoyed looking Patton. "Considering how anxious you are, you'd think you'd wake up once your alarm went off." He yanked my blanket away from me, causing me to let out a hopefully-not-as-high-pitched-as-it-sounded scream. "You can touch things!?" "Damn right I can. And you're about to get bitch-slapped by a very pissed off ghost if you don't get your ass out of bed in approximately five seconds."

  


I squeaked, scrambling to get out of bed. "You gotta eat dinner with my family in about an hour and a half." Patton picked at the already chipped black polish on his fingernails. "Oh god. I forgot about dinner."

  


He gave me an unimpressed look, which turned into a small grin. "Congratulations. You have invented a new kind of stupid."

  


_Did he just.. quote a musical at me?_  


  


"Y'know, I actually think you and Roman would've gotten along really well if you didn't hate each other so much." His sly smirk twisted into a frown the moment Roman's name left my mouth. "Say that again and I might just possess you."

  


Oh god, me, keep your damn mouth shut. Being sassy will only piss him off.

  


"Are you saying you want to be inside of me?"

  


... Unfortunately, I do not have a brain to mouth filter.

  


To my surprise, he turned bright red and chucked a pillow at me. "Shut the fuck up!' I snorted, thankful that I slept in my clothes because there was no way I'd change in front of Patton. I grabbed my sneakers and pulled them on, getting a very unhelpful "Those shoes belong on a dad in his forties" from Patton the sardonic ghost.

  


I stood up and left my room, then on the second stair I tripped and started falling all the way down. I let out a scream, slamming my eyes shut as I prepared for excruciating pain in my arm.

  


But no such pain came. I slowly opened my eyes to see Patton, arms around me and refusing to look me in the eye. "You're welcome." He mumbled, allowing me to regain my balance before letting go. "..Thanks." "Never speak of this, Hansen."

  


I smiled when he wasn't looking.

  


—

  


I'm probably sweating enough to fill several buckets, and the lame daisies I took from the dining room (sorry Dad) are already wilting. My condolence flowers dying in my hands. Kind of poetic.

  


"It's not too late to book it." Patton piped up, I gulped and rang the doorbell. "Dumbass."

  


A few seconds later, the door opened and Emile Murphy beamed at me. Thankfully, it seems like he's unable to see Patton. I don't know how I would've explained _that_. "Oh, Virgil! I'm so glad you're here, come in." He stepped to the side, allowing Patton and I to enter.

  


I absentmindedly offered Emile the daisies (which he gratefully accepted) and looked around. There were photos everywhere of the family, but in all of the ones that appeared more recent, Patton was noticeably absent. A picture on its on little end table catches my eye.

  


In the photo, a young boy was looking into the camera and smiling wide, revealing that his right front tooth was missing. He had on a blue polo shirt and a very oversized grey cardigan tied around his neck as if he were a superhero. Freckles splashed across his nose, and his glasses that were a little too big for his face were crooked. The lenses were perfectly clean, allowing a clear sight of his sparkling blue eyes.

  


Beside the boy's photo is another one, and here it's quite obviously Patton. His arms were crossed, and you could see the chipped black polish on his recently bitten nails. He was simply wearing a plain black shirt with the same grey cardigan from the previous picture- except it fit him, and he was wearing it correctly. His facial expression was unreadable, and his eyes were lacking the spark the child had. Despite that, they're full of emotion. It's almost heartbreaking how his face was the embodiment of "I'm fine" while his eyes told a whole different story.

  


I noticed the small, extinguished candle in between the two pictures, and it took me a full three seconds to realize that the photos were of the same person.

  


I looked between the younger Patton to the older one beside it. _What happened between this.. and this?_ Emile smiled sadly as he observed me. "Dinner's ready." He spoke up, snapping me out of my thoughts. I nodded quietly, following close behind him into the kitchen/dining area and _holy shit this house is big_.

  


My breath caught in my throat, because Dee was there. I mean, of course he was, he lived there for fuck's sake, but it'd completely slipped my mind that he'd be there. No one is quick to launch into conversation, which led to everyone sitting in uncomfortable silence. Patton sat on the counter behind me, looking bored out of his mind.

  


Clearing his throat, Remy spoke up. "Would anyone like some chicken?" "I think you're the only one with an appetite, Rem." Emile sighed, his husband shrugged in response and sipped from a Starbucks cup. "Who the hell drinks coffee with chicken?" Patton grimaced.

  


"Did you and Patton hang out a lot?" Oh fuck. Interrogation. _Just nod and confirm!_ I nodded, hoping the action didn't appear as frantic as it felt. "Where?" Goddammit, Roman didn't tell me how to respond to questions where a simple nod or affirmation wouldn't suffice.

  


"Uh.. well sometimes we'd hang out at my house, b-but sometimes we would come here if no one else was home. Um. Mostly we hung out at..." I looked around, eyes locking onto the bowl of apples in the center of the table. "The.. apples. Place."

  


"Oh my fucking God." Patton facepalmed.

  


Emile, however, seemed elated. "He took you to the orchard?" His green eyes lit up. "We used to go on picnics there! Remember that Dee?" The boy nodded mutely, chewing on a few loose strings hanging from his sweater sleeve. "I'd completely forgotten about that place." Remy looked astonished. "Well I guess Patton didn't."

  


"I did forget, but nobody in this family seems to have a functioning bullshit detector." Patton rolled his eyes. Of course, no one heard him but me. "I bet that was fun." Emile thought for a second, then Dee leaned forward. "I've never seen you guys talk at school."

  


Shit.

  


"Um, that's because we emailed a lot." "No, we checked all of his emails, there aren't any from you." Double shit. "T-That's because he had a secret email account.. he... didn't want anyone seeing our conversations." Emile turned towards his husband with a knowing look. "See, Remy, he knew you read his emails." Remy shrugged again. "I don't regret it."

  


"The one time I saw you together was when Patton shoved you in the hallway a few days ago." Dee cut in, those gorgeous different colored eyes stared me down intently, as if he could figure me out if he stared long and hard enough.

  


His father gaped at me. "He shoved you?" I quickly tried to deny it, but Dee wasn't letting up. "No, I was there! He pushed you, hard." He leaned back. "Just like Patton to push a kid with a broken arm." This prompts Patton to flip him off and mumble some vrry creative curse words under his breath.

  


"It was actually a misunderstanding because he didn't want to be seen with me?" It sounded like a question, so I nodded as if confirming my own lie. "Why wouldn't he want to be seen with someone as sweet as you?" Emile smiled, Patton scoffed. "Yes, he's so sweet for lying to his "best friend's" parents about their dead child."

  


"B-Because I'm-" "A nerd?" Dee interjected, Emile scolded him. "A loser, I was gonna say, but nerd works too."

  


Dee and Emile seemed to have an entire conversation just by sharing eye contact until Emile stood. "Patton was.. a complicated person." His son rolled his eyes. "No, Patton was a _bad_ person. There's a difference." "That isn't true! There were good things-"

  


The boy got up out of his seat, raising his voice. I'd never seen Dee look so angry. "And what were those? What were the good things Dad!?" He demanded, Emile's eyes watered. He didn't answer. "Exactly, there were none."

  


The words leave my mouth before I can stop them. "I remember a lot of good things about Patton."

  


Everyone is staring at me now, including Patton himself. "Like what?" Dee's voice was still filled with irritation, but his eyes twinkled with curiosity.

  


"..Nevermind I shouldn't have said anything-" "No!" Emile sprang forward, a hand on my arm. I jumped, he breathed shakily. "We.. want to know." Patton and I shared matching expressions of shock, although both of us had different reasons.

  


"Bullshit you wanna know! I had to die for you assholes to care I was ever alive!" He screamed in his father's face, getting no reaction. I winced, looking to the side and conveying a "calm down" with my eyes. Patton huffed. "Fuckin' pricks.."

  


I started to control my breathing, looking at the three sets of eyes watching me expectantly. I took a deep breath.

  


"End of May or early June..."

  


—

  


**Princey:** His parents think you were lovers.  


You realize that right?

  


**Virge:** What?  


  


**Princey:** Uh, you were "best friends" but when you tried to talk to him in public he kicked your ass.  


That's like,

The exact formula for secret gay high school relationship.

  


**Virge:** Oh no.  


  


**Princey:** Oh yes.  


  


**Virge:** Oh shit.  


  


I hadn't even been thinking about what I was saying, and in full honesty I barely remembered anything from that interaction.

  


**Virge:** I didn't mean to make them think that!  


I just started talking and then...

  


**Princey:** You couldn't stop?  


  


**Virge:** They didn't want me to stop.  


  


**Princey:** You're an idiot.  


  


**Virge:** I'm aware.  


  


**Princey:** You have invented a new kind of stupid.  


  


******Virge:** Stop.  


  


**Princey:** A damage you could never undo kind of stupid.  


  


**Virge:** Ro...  


  


**Princey:** An "open all the cages in the zoo" kind of stupid.  


  


**Virge:** Roman.  


  


**Princey:** Truly, you didn't think this through- kind of stupid.  


  


**Virge:** Pump the brakes Princey!  


  


**Princey:** Fine.  


Emo nightmare.

  


**Virge:** Knock-off prince Eric.  


  


**Princey:** Actually, I'd be a knock-off _hispanic_ prince Eric.  


If you're going to insult me at least do it right.

  


**Virge:** Shut up.  


  


**Princey:** So what else did you completely fuck up?  


  


**Virge:__** Well..  


I may have told them we wrote emails?

  


**Princey:** Emails.  


  


**Virge:** Yeah, I said that he- That Patton- had a secret email account.  


  


**Princey:** Oh, sure, one of those _secret email accounts_ for sending pictures of your penises to each other!  


  


**Virge:** Oh my God.  


What am I gonna do?

  


**Princey:** I can do emails.  


  


**Virge:** Really?  


  


**Princey:** How do you think I created that email slideshow project where we talked to relatives without actually talking to anyone?  


I have more skills than your pollen brain could ever imagine.

  


**Virge:** Could you help me? Please?  


  


**Princey:** Sure. For 2 grand.  


  


**Virge:** I can give you a 20.  


  


**Princey:** Fine.

You're a dick.

  


"I told you you'd get along." I smirked at Patton, who was glaring heavily at the lyrics Roman had typed.

  


"You busy?" I jumped at the sudden appearance of my dad in the doorway. Quickly, I slammed my laptop shut and stuffed it under the blanket. "Nope!" I tried to casually flip my hair out of my face, but it just fell back to its usual spot covering my left eye. I looked at my dad nervously through the dark, almost black purple dyed part of my hair.

  


We stayed there in prolonged silence, something far to often occuring in our conversations nowadays.

  


"Hug your dad." Patton said quietly. "You never know when one of you won't be around anymore."

  


I stood up and wrapped my arms around Thomas, who looked startled before returning the embrace. "Thanks kiddo..." He smiled. "I needed that today." We stayed like that for a bit, then he let go. "So.. what were you doing in here?" I sat back down. "I was just talking to Roman." He beamed- a very appropriate description for the way he smiles at me. Like he's a walking ray of sunshine. "I'm glad you and Roman are spending more time together."

  


Yeah... Not like we're hanging out to write fake emails between me and a dead kid.

  


"Is it okay if I go over to his house today?" I asked, my dad smiled sweetly. "Of course Virge." He kissed my forehead. "Do you wanna ride?" Thomas asked, I heard Patton snort at the unintentional reference. "No, Ro's gonna pick me up."

  


"Well, okay." He started to leave the room. "I gotta go to class but.. just be safe, alright?" He smiled, giving me a tiny wave. "Yeah, bye Dad." "Seeya kiddo, love you!" "You too."

  


I reopened my laptop.

  


**Virge:** Hey, can I come over?  


  


**Princey:** Why?  


  


**Virge:** Emails, dumbass.  


  


**Princey:** Oh.  


Sure lol, just don't wake up my demon of a brother.

  


**Virge:** I'm offended you'd even insinuate that I would ever do that.  


So pick me up in ten?

  


**Princey:** It's a date.  


  


No, I did not blush, and you have no proof.

  


"Hansen, your face is like... on fire right now. Do you seriously get flustered that easily?" Patton chimed in.

  


_Damn you, Patton Murphy._  


  


—

  


"Welcome to the Kleinman residence." Roman held open the front door. I stepped inside. "Holy shit-" It was so damn cold in here!" "Shh!" Roman hissed, grabbing my hand and yanking me along to his room.

  


Once we were safe from danger (Remus), the boy let go of my hand and grabbed his laptop. "Alright, Vol-dour-mort." I shot him a look. "We gotta make a fake email for Patton."

  


Patton, who was standing behind me, let out a scoff. I turned to face him. "Can't you help? Please" I whispered, he shook his head. "Fuck that. I'm all for sitting back and watching the chaos unfold."

  


Once again, _Damn you, Patton Murphy._

  


"How 'bout... "notpattonmurphy"?" Roman suggested, Patton snickered. "Sure, that's okay." I said awkwardly, sitting down next to Roman. He quickly typed in my email, then started typing in the actual message field.

  


[DISCLAIMER: I do not own "Sincerely, Me". The lyrics are just too perfect not to use.]

  


_Dear Virgil Hansen,_  


_We've been WAY too out of touch._

_Things have been crazy, and it sucks that we don't talk that much._

_But I should tell you that I think of you each night..._  


_I rub my nipples and start moaning with delight._

_  
_

"Why would you write that!?" I cried, Roman was laughing hard, clutching his sides. "I'm just trying to tell the truth!" He choked out between <strike>cute</strike> giggles. "Okay if you're not going to take this seriously then why am I even here?" Roman scoffed.

  


"What do you mean?" "What I mean is these emails have to prove that we were actually friends; they've gotta be completely realistic!"

  


Roman looked appalled. "There's nothing _un_realistic about the love that one man feels for another!" I sighed. It was like dealing with a toddler. "Let's go back." "In fact some would say there's something quite _beautiful_-" "Pump the brakes Princey!" I took the laptop from him, pouting.

  


_I gotta tell you life without you has been hard._  


  


"Hard?" "I hate you."

  


_has been bad._  


  


"_Bad?_"

  


_has been rough._  


  


"Kinky!" Roman winked, I punched him in the arm. "Ow! That _hurt_, tu pendejo!"

  


_And I miss talking about life and... other stuff._  


_  
_

"Very specific." "Shut the fuck up."

  


_I like my parents,_  


  


"Who says that?" Roman snickered. "Me, apparently." Patton sighed heavily.

  


_I love my parents, but each day's another fight. If I stop smoking drugs then everything might be alright._  


  


"Smoking drugs..." Patton and Roman chided in unison, shaking their heads like disappointed mothers. I turned bright red. "Just fix it!" Roman stuck his tongue out as he typed.

  


_If I stop smoking crack_  


  


"Crack!?" He rolled his eyes, Patton choked.

  


_If I stop smoking pot then everything might be alright._  


_I'll take your advice, I'll try to be more... nice._

_  
_

Patton removed his glasses to wipe tears from his eyes. That's how hard he was laughing.

  


_I'll turn it around, wait and see..._  


_'Cause all that it takes is a little reinvention_

_It's easy to change if you give it your attention_

_All you gotta do, is just believe you can be who you wanna be._

_Sincerely, Me._

  


"Are we done yet?" Roman whined, cracking his knuckles. "My hands are starting to hurt." I crossed my arms. "Well I can't just give them _one email_-" "You can, and you will." He saved what he'd written and closed his laptop. "If they're so desperate just to read it, one should suffice."

  


I frowned. "..Alright. I trust you."

  


Roman flushed pink, looking away and messing with the bracelets on his arms. "Shut up. You're embarrassing me." He shook his head as if to clear his mind, but his face remained rosy. "Alright, we did it. I'll drive you back now." He stood up, placing his laptop back on his bed, then motioned for me to follow him. He opened his bedroom door and I took a step out.

  


"Oh, brother, you didn't tell me your boyfriend was here!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HA. CLIFFHANGER.  
(ok im sorry)  
i havent written for that long in a while  
sweet lin manuel miranda my hands hurt-  
okay  
comments will be loved,  
constructive criticism is appreciated- i'd love to have someone co-write this with me, especially since i sometimes can't figure out how to make a certain sentence better.  
if you're interested let me know!  
<3


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patton sees some things he feels like he shouldn't have seen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter four!  
i'm working on updating this more often, specifically so i don't forget about it; i'm having too much fun writing it (and drawing the character designs).  
this won't be abandoned, that's a promise <3
> 
> PS: this is the first chapter written from Patton's point of view! (don't worry, it won't be the last)

_"Oh, brother, you didn't tell me your boyfriend was here!"_

— [Patton's POV] —

I'd only seen Kleinman's brother one time, and that was in the bathroom where I'd seen.. a bit too much of him.

I never used the school bathroom again (or any public bathroom, for that matter).

But I gotta say, looking at him here, he makes Roman seem like a saint.

"He's not my boyfriend, Remus." Roman spoke up, his nose twitching. His brother ("Remus", probably) simply smirked. "Sure seems like it. I mean, you just spent so long alone in your room. That's ought to raise suspicion."

Every time someone had mentioned the Kleinmans, they were always described as twins- from what I could tell they looked nothing alike. Remus was tall and pale, with big hazel eyes where the pupils never seemed to widen. Whereas Roman was just a little bit taller than Virgil and had tan skin that went well with his brown eyes.

The one thing they seemed to have in common was the streak in the front of their hair. Remus' was grey, Roman's was blonde. But if you looked closer, it was clearly dyed. The roots were just barely coming out. Grey.

If anything, it seemed like Roman was trying really hard to be as jarringly different from his brother as he could.

"I wonder what would happen if I told mom and dad what you've been doing, brother. Do you really think they'd approve of you having sex with another boy? After all, you've been raised to know that's wrong." He teased, I clenched my fist.

No matter who it was directed at, no matter how much I disliked Roman, homophobia in any form was not okay.

Virgil tried to interrupt. "R-Ro it's okay, don't listen to-" "I'm fine." The smaller boy was shaking. "You don't look-" "I said I'm fine, Virge." He didn't take his eyes off his brother. "Go wait in the car."

He wanted to protest, I could tell, but he didn't. I started to follow him out.

"He'll never love you the way you love him, Roman. Give up."

Virgil had already begun walking away. He didn't hear. I did.

I turned around, having to plant my feet so I didn't charge the prick. Who gave him the right to say that to anyone? Who the fuck did he think he was? Why would he-

...Wait.

Remus slinked back into his room like a creepy octopus retreating back into camouflage. A soft sniffling sound began, then slowly grew louder. My heart slowed when I heard it.

Crying. Roman fucking Kleinman was crying.

_What the hell?_

He sniffled, trying to stifle his quiet sobs. "F-Fuck you Remus.." Kleinman mumbled, clutching the red scarf wrapped around his neck. He used it to wipe his eyes, leaving a small, darkened spot where his tears had dampened the soft fabric.

And even though I'll never admit it, I actually tried to say something to Roman before he left the house.

He composed himself rather quickly, making sure he looked like he hadn't just been crying. With a deep breath, he walked past me towards the front door.

"There's nothing wrong with loving another person." I said quietly. "You're different. And that's alright. We all are."

And I swear, for a split second, Roman smiled before he opened the door.

—

I was planning on getting a ride back to Virgil's place with him, but my mind had a different idea.

Instead, I found myself in front of my own house- or I guess my "old" house. I didn't really live here anymore.

I walked right through the front door, observing. I didn't want to be back here again, after all it only causes heartbreak. I learned that a long time ago.

"Remy, you have to read this! Virgil dropped it off a bit ago." My father was excited, practically bouncing with a paper in his hand. "I'll read it later, Hon." "But Remy-" "Not now."

Emile looked defeated. Sighing, he returned to the table and placed the paper down. "Look, Dee." He smiled as my brother lifted his head to look at the paper. I walked closer, recognizing the words from the emails Hansen and Kleinman had written before.

He read it over, biting his lip as he did so. "Patton wrote this.. your brother was-" "Happy?" Dee interjected, then shook his head. "I can't do this." He stood up.

"Honey, I know you're still grieving, but this is an amazing thing! We can finally know him, the real him-" Emile was cut off again. "The _real_ Patton," My brother starts, glaring holes into our father. "Is not the Patton there. That isn't the brother I knew."

"..Dee..." "Just because Patton isn't here to bang on my door screaming that he's going to kill me for no reason, that doesn't mean that all of a sudden we're the fucking Brady Bunch." His cold eyes seemed to cut through the air, cut through _me_ as they scan the room. Then he finally turns and storms up the stairs to his room, slamming the door behind him.

And I thought I was the only one who did that.

His words linger with me. Sure I'd been an asshole, and I said plenty of things I didn't mean, but I'd never threatened to kill him. Did he really think I'd ever do that?

I can't blame him.

I follow Dee, walking into his room and looking around.

I hadn't been in here in years. It's funny, I almost expected it to be exactly the same. The bed where I had hugged him while he cried countless times because our parents were fighting. The desk where he tried to copy whatever I was drawing and it somehow ended up being scribbles.

I recognize the beanie he's wearing now; he always wears one, so it wasn't out of the ordinary, but this was one that I'd gotten him.

At the time he saw someone at school wearing one and immediately wanted one. Emile had said no, and shattered the poor boy's dreams. He was only six after all.

I saved up my own money and got him one, but they didn't have little ones so it was far too big for him. Dee didn't seem to care though. He hugged me for twenty minutes straight.

That was the one he was wearing now as he tuned his acoustic guitar.

I sat down on the bed, peering at the journal in front of him. I can't remember the last time I was next to him when we didn't end up screaming at each other. I guess the only reason we aren't arguing now is because I'm not even alive.

The ink on the pages is smudged. He's written notes neatly below the words. A song.

I observed as he began playing and reading. No, not reading, _singing_.

[DISCLAIMER: I do not own Requiem]

_"Why should I have a heavy heart?_

_Why should I say "I'll keep you with me"?_

_Why should I go and fall apart for you?"_

He looks up to check the notes, then starts to strum again.

_"Why, should I play the grieving boy and,_

_Lie? Saying that I miss you, and that_

_My world has gone dark without your light._

_I will sing no Requiem_

_Tonight,"_

He pushes his reddish-brown hair out of his face.

_"Cause when the villains fall,_

_The kingdoms never weep._

_No one lights a candle to remember._

_No, no one mourns at all,_

_And they lay them down to sleep._

_So don't tell me that I didn't have it right,_

_Don't tell me that it wasn't black and white._

_After all you put me through,_

_Don't say it wasn't true,_

_That you were not the monster.._

_That I knew..."_

He rubs his eyes, but there aren't any tears there. His eyes are rimmed with red, revealing that he'd already cried himself out. Cried over me.

_"Cause I, cannot play the grieving boy and,_

_Lie, saying that I miss you, and that_

_My world has gone dark."_

Dee paused, biting the inside of his cheek.

_"I will sing no Requiem..._

_Tonight."_

He hums softly, then strums the last notes and waits until the room is silent again.

I never knew he was singing in here. I just always assumed he was listening to songs, not writing them himself.

And then it hits me that something is moving. I felt it on my face, then reached up my hand to rub it away.

My hand retracts with tears on the back.

I know why of course, it's because he's right. I was a monster, an absolute asshole who treated him like shit. But for whatever reason I couldn't bring myself to feel remorse. I made a choice, and it was the right one. He wouldn't have to deal with me anymore. The insults, the yelling, fighting, everything.

But something didn't add up. He had every right to hate me, in fact he should've with how I treated him- with how _we_ treated each other.

The way he sang went against every lyric he'd written. He supposedly can't grieve, can't mourn for me but here he is, his voice giving away all the hurt he's feeling.

We were more similar than we thought. Neither of us could ever admit the very same thing.

That both of us really did care for the other,

And neither of us ever got to apologise, or say goodbye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> w o a h.  
that's all i have to say about that-  
i'm still searching for a co-writer by the way! let me know if you're interested <3  
apologies if this one was a bit short, it used to be 20,000 words though, and i had to cut it in half. i didn't want pov changes in the middle of chapters, y'know?  
thanks for reading!


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